


Hold On, We're Gonna Make it if it Takes All Night

by lookforanewangle



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 09:07:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6000154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookforanewangle/pseuds/lookforanewangle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The instant the serum from Khan's blood is prepared, Leonard is leaping from his seat and dashing to the other end of the Medical Bay, frantically shouting orders at the rest of the med staff. "Op. staff alpha, I need y'all prepped and ready for operation yesterday! Move it!" (re-uploaded from ffnet)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold On, We're Gonna Make it if it Takes All Night

**Author's Note:**

> Figured I may as well kick off my ao3 account with an old ST fic. :) Originally posted 7/19/13.
> 
> This takes place the two weeks following Jim's death in Star Trek Into Darkness. Just a heads up - I know next to nothing in terms of medical anything, which is why there's close to no medical terminology anywhere, haha. This is also (still) unedited, so.
> 
> Vulcan translations at the end of the fic!

The instant the serum from Khan's blood is prepared, Leonard is leaping from his seat and dashing to the other end of the Medical Bay, frantically shouting orders at the rest of the med staff.

"Op. staff alpha, I need y'all prepped and ready for operation _yesterday!_ Move it!"

"Yes, Doctor!"

There is a flurry of motion as a handful of doctors and nurses each reach for various instruments and supplies, following quickly on Dr. McCoy's heels. Leonard stops by Jim's cryo tube, eyebrows furrowing in pain at Jim's blank features. He places his hand solemnly on the frost covered glass, hand sliding and leaving behind a trail of moisture above his face.

"Hang in there, Jim," he whispers as the operation group prepares for the upcoming task at hand.

***

They bring him back.

It's long _-too long_ , Leonard thinks- and grueling work, but they bring him back.

It is the transfusion that really hits Jim hard. At first the process seems to go smoothly. It goes over almost too well in Leonard's opinion.

Then Jim's heart stopped.

It was sudden and unexpected, throwing the entire operation unit off guard at the abrupt drone of the monitors strapped to the captain. Leonard jumped into action, starting CPR immediately.

"Dammit, Jim," McCoy growled, fists pounding in a steady rhythm against the young man's chest. "Breathe, kid; breathe!" The drone of the biobed readings continued as Bones applied two more repetitions of CPR. The readings, however, did not change.

"Dammit!" he cursed. "Nurse Chapel! Where's that defibrillator?!"

"Here, sir!"

The pads were quickly applied to Jim's chest, Bones' hands holding them steady and in place. The machine whined loudly as it charged.

"Clear!"

Jim's body jerked, but his heart showed no signs of starting. "Come on," Leonard muttered. The charge whined once more.

"Clear!"

"Come _on!_ "

The shock was applied two more times before a meager beep was emitted from the biobed.

"We've got a beat!"

Leonard lunged forwards, pressing two fingers to the captain's neck to make sure the readings were accurate. He released a heavy sigh as he felt the weak but steadying pulse thrumming under his finger tips. He stepped back as nurses continued to swarm Jim like angry bees, collapsing into a chair and burying his face in his trembling hands.

Jim was alive; his heart was beating.

He was going to be okay.

Jim was going to be okay.

***

Much later that evening, Jim was stabilized. It took numerous medicines and there were frequent scares and close calls, but the kid was finally stabilized.

Despite the insistence of the nurses and even another doctor, Leonard refused to leave so soon. There had been too much unpredictability the last 36 hours, and there was no way in hell he was leaving yet. He just, he had to make _sure-_

Leonard reached out and gently grabbed Jim's hand in both of his own, squeezing lightly. "Don't leave me, kid," he whispered hoarsely. "Don't you dare leave me now. Not after everything. Not like everyone else."

Over four years ago, Leonard McCoy swore he'd never get close enough to anyone again to be hurt. First there was his father, then Jocelyn.

But then came Jim Kirk.

Kirk was a surprise; arrogant, brash, but kind and understanding. His friendship was sudden and unexpected. Somehow he had worked his way into Leonard's heart and claimed a part for himself without Leonard even realizing it until much later. They had grown close over the years, through Jim's constant nagging for attention, many nights at the bar that ended with Jim passed out on his couch, and mornings with coffee and hangover remedies. Jim was like the little brother Leonard had never had, and losing Jim, just like he had lost everyone else, would be too much.

Jim's hand remained clutched in his own as he drifted off to sleep in the chair next to the biobed.

***

From then on, Leonard practically lived at the hospital. Every morning he'd check on Jim, then wander down to the cafeteria to grab a coffee and some breakfast. He'd stop by the gift shop and pick up a newspaper for his PADD, and return to Jim's side. Nurses were constantly in and out, double checking Jim's vitals and the various wires and tubes attached to the blond that were helping to keep him alive as his body continued to adapt to the transfusion. Leonard would watch them closely; the intensity of his gaze, the raise of a skeptical eyebrow, the dark circles under his eyes, and his shaggy appearance unnerving those who hadn't worked with Doctor McCoy before. None of them dared to cross him.

Except Doctor Jabilo M'Benga.

Near the end of the first week, M'Benga stopped by the room to pay the duo a visit. He passed by McCoy without a word, scanning the medical PADD at the edge of the biobed. He nodded in approval at the detailed report, and turned to his fellow doctor and commanding officer, bracing his arms behind the small of his back.

"Hello, Doctor McCoy."

The brunette grunted, the sound the only indication that he had heard the man. His slouched posture straightened slightly, but he otherwise remained in the chair and watching Jim.

M'Benga pursed his lips, and his hands clenched in slight worry and frustration. "Leonard..." he began softly.

Leonard growled, pushing to his feet and pacing across the room. "Don't you 'Leonard' me, M'Benga," he said gruffly, finger pointed accusingly towards the man. "You don't know the _half_ of what I've been through the past week, hell, the last few _years_. This kid doesn't know when to stop!" he said loudly, gesturing wildly at the unconscious form on the bed. "He just keeps throwing himself into the fray without a care over and over and _over_..." He paused next to the bed, placing his hand on Jim's soft blond hair, stroking it softly. "Stupid, self-sacrificing, son-of-a-bitch." he whispered hoarsely.

M'Benga watched on silently, sympathy settling on his features. He walked forward and placed a hand on McCoy's shoulder, squeezing lightly in comfort. "He will recover," M'Benga reassured him quietly. "He is strong and has been through much. He is a fighter, and he will make it."

Leonard's shoulders slumped in defeat, a tired sigh escaping his lips. "Yeah, I know. I know that better than anyone. I just-"

"I understand," M'Benga cut in. "He is your best friend, and seeing anyone, especially someone close to you, suffer is difficult." McCoy scoffed.

"I definitely know about _that_ better than _anyone_." he muttered lowly, fiddling with one of the tubes attached to Jim's arm. M'Benga sighed, choosing his next words carefully.

"Listen, Leonard. You've been here for over a week. You are exhausted, stressed, and emotionally strained. You've barely gotten any sleep, and are worrying yourself over nothing. You need-"

"You don't know what I need," Leonard butted in defiantly, a scowl deep on his face. M'Benga raised a condescending eyebrow.

"Of course I do. I'm a doctor. And your condition is painfully obvious," he said smoothly. Leonard sent him a furious glare, turning abruptly on his heel, walking over and dropping heavily into his chair. He rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, releasing another heavy sigh. M'Benga followed him closely, crouching in front of the man once he was seated.

"Go home," Jabilo insisted, placing a hand on Leonard's knee.

"M'Benga-"

"One day." He said sternly, cutting him off. "Get some rest, eat some real food, and relax. I will see to Mr. Kirk myself. Just one day. That is all I ask."

McCoy scrubbed his face roughly with his palms before staring over at Jim contemplatively. M'Benga watched him closely, awaiting his response. Finally, McCoy released one last sigh and pushed himself to his feet. "Fine," he muttered in defeat. "But for one day _only_. I'll be back tomorrow after lunch." He grabbed a small duffle he had brought containing clothes, toiletries, and wrappers from some protein bars he had snuck in. He threw it over his shoulder as he continued. "Make sure to keep watch on him. With his shitty immune system, new allergies are popping up all the time. So no new medicines," he said sharply. "It's been quiet the last few days, but if something happens, _you call me immediately_. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." M'Benga responded, fighting to keep an amused smile off his face at the other doctor's protectiveness of his patient. He turned as McCoy stomped past him towards the door. "Oh, and Leonard?" McCoy turned, his raised eyebrow asking for him to continue. "I would highly suggest you shave. You're scaring the nurses."

Leonard scowled, muttering things about his 'manly facial hair' under his breath as he left the room. M'Benga's lips quirked in a small smile. Leonard McCoy was a strong man.

He would make it through this.

***

Leonard, cleanly shaved, returned the next day around 1330 hours, only to find a visitor in the room. The tall figure was standing to the left of the biobed, his arms folded behind his back and his hands clenched tightly. His posture was stiff, his back completely straight. As Leonard stepped closer, he noticed the man was trembling ever so slightly. McCoy remained in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He knew that the man knew he was there, and Leonard crossed his arms and waited for the dark-haired figure to speak.

"...I should have known," Spock said quietly from his position a few minutes later.

"Spock-" Leonard started, but was abruptly cut off by the green-blooded Vulcan.

"I should have known," Spock voiced, stronger this time. "that as soon as he was back on the ship, when he did not return to command his ship, that he would be doing something brash and completely illogical."

"I agree with you there," McCoy answered. "You should have known that something was wrong. But what he did wasn't illogical, and you know it." Spock whirled towards him, face blank but edging towards anger. McCoy had had a lot of time to think since they brought Jim back. Needless to say, he hadn't gotten much sleep on his day home, and he had somehow, finally, wrapped his mind around Jim's logic of his actions. "The stunt he pulled was stupid and brash, but the kid was just trying to save his ship, and his family. Yes, he's an idiot, but he cares for all of us and the last thing he did was save all of our sorry asses. So don't you dare go and try to argue with me with all your Vulcan logic, because what he did? It was logical in his own eyes."

Spock searched his face for a moment, searching for something Leonard wasn't quite sure of. Reassurance perhaps? Truth? Leonard wasn't sure. However, whatever he was looking for he seemed to have found, because his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, and the hints of anger ebbed away from his face. Spock turned back to Jim, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

" _Fun-tor ak, Jim_."[1] he said quietly. " _Nam-tor karik_."[2] Without another word, the Vulcan turned on his heel and left the room, McCoy watching him go.

He came back the next day. And this time, he wasn't alone.

The next few days, members of the crew began stopping by. Only the bridge crew was allowed to enter the room, however, per Doctor McCoy's orders. Each of them stopped by separately, talking to Jim while Spock and Leonard remained out of their way, watching the interactions with little fuss.

The last few days were quiet. Spock had stopped coming, and nothing about Jim's condition had changed. However, quite early on the 6th day of the second week, there was an unusual beep from the machines. Leonard had immediately searched to discover the anomaly, and his heart soared with hope.

Jim was showing signs of consciousness.

Leonard immediately went about altering the machines and medicines, preparing for anything that could happen once Jim awoke. He even sent a comm to Spock, knowing that the hobgoblin would want to be there when Jim awoke.

A small array of hypos and tricorders were arranged meticulously on a tray, Leonard dressed in his crisp whites. Not long after the instruments were placed, Spock arrived, standing slightly behind Leonard. The two of them waited anxiously for their captain to wake.

A few minutes passed by agonizingly slowly, before Jim's eyes flew open with deep intake of breath. Jim looked around as he settled back into the pillows, turning his head towards Leonard. The tension seeped from his shoulders as he snatched up a tricorder and began scanning Jim's vitals.

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic. You were barely dead." he cracked, attempting to convince himself of that fact. He continued quietly, the stress of the two weeks beginning to bear down on his shoulders once more. "It was the transfusion that really took its toll. You were out cold for two weeks."

Jim's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Transfusion...?"

"Your cells were heavily irradiated," he informed him. "We had no choice."

Leonard recognized the look on Jim's face; the gears were turning rapidly in his head, attempting to fit together all the pieces that were starting to come together. "Khan?"

"Once we caught him, I synthesized a serum from his... super blood. Tell me," he continued, slightly curious. "are you feeling, uh... homicidal, powerman, despotic?"

Jim's face adopted the look of 'are you freaking kidding me'. "No more than usual," he responded flatly. He looked down, thoughtful, before turning his gaze back to Leonard's. "How'd you catch him?"

Leonard raised an eyebrow. "I didn't." He moved around the other side of the bed, fiddling with more tricorders and machines as Spock stepped into Jim's view. Most of Leonard's focus was on the instruments and assuring himself that Jim was in fact okay and would make a full recovery. Part of his focus, however, drifted to the conversation between Captain and First Officer.

"You saved my life." Jim stated quietly. Leonard turned to the pair.

"Uhura and I had something to do with it, too, ya know," he said defensively. Jim glanced over at him, amused, before turning his attention back to the Vulcan.

"You saved my life, Captain," Spock retorted, "and the lives of-"

"Spock, just..." Jim interjected, trailing off. "Thank you."

"You are welcome, Jim."

"So all it took was for me to die for you to start calling me 'Jim'? Huh. I should of thought of that sooner," the blonde joked lightly. Spock raised an eyebrow as Bones pointed at Jim with one hand, waving a hypo in the other.

"You joke about that again and I'll make sure you don't wake up for another week." he threatened.

Jim closed his eyes and pressed back into his pillows. "Ah, c'mon, Bones," he said sluggishly. "I thought you loved me."

"Whatever you say, kid," he said softly, watching quietly as Jim drifted back to sleep. He placed a hand softly on Jim's hair, a small smile settling on his tired face. "Whatever you say."

**Author's Note:**

> [1] Fun-tor ak, Jim - Return soon, Jim.
> 
> [2] Nam-tor karik - Be strong.


End file.
